Day 93
Sunday June 1st
Sunday June 1st
Got busted by the coppers tonight. It was a freakish lapse of judgment on my part. I usually only hang out at the basketball courts for a few hours. I dig it up there because it is quiet and has a great view. Every now and again I can get in on a pick-up game of three-on-three or H-O-R-S-E. I get great cell reception up here too. In fact before cruising up here one day about a month ago I had no idea my cellie had FOUR bars, four(!), totally groovy! So I come up here to read or pay bills or just relax and maybe get in on some hoops action.
Tonight though I was bushed after making a quick meal. I chowed down but could barely keep my eyes open. After I finished I jumped back in the car to decide where next. I was thinking of getting some more night photog in before the moon became too full or maybe heading back to the river bottom to get some cool time lapses. I stick the keys in the ignition and keep debating. I had every intention of clearing out. In the middle of my internal tete-a-tete I just kind of let my head fall back and closed my eyes-- but just for a sec I swear!
The next thing I know the car is engulfed by this bright burning white light. The clock radio said quarter 'til one in the AM. What? It was like waking up in the middle of the scene from Spielberg's Close Encounters.... I had lost four hours of my life and had no memory of it and this burning white light is completing engulfing the car. Gotta be an alien abduction right? Nope, just 5-0 shaking me down. Three cruisers had surrounded my dirty little focus and the officers were pounding on the windows to wake me up. I could barely respond, I was still practically dreaming not quite sure if I was awake or not. After a couple quick questions two of the cruisers took off. The remaining officer ran my info and of course it came back clean (except I had no known address on file-- try explaining how you live out of a P.O. Box!).
After a while the copper and I chattered away for almost an hour. I told him about the documentary project. He was speechless. He could not understand the logic of living out of your car if you have a decent job. In fact it took a little convincing before he actually believed that one. He kept saying "but dude you don't look homeless!" Keep in mind I am still dressed for work and have a pair Von Zippers on my head, my still camera & audio gear & video camera & cell phone are out on the passenger seat. Easy to see the confusion here I imagine. Towards the end of the conversation my friend in blue started giving me tips and pointers for the doc! He was like, "oh you have to go here or go talk to this dude and such and such" It was pretty cool ending, though I would have liked it better had it been aliens. Now there is a story!
Tonight though I was bushed after making a quick meal. I chowed down but could barely keep my eyes open. After I finished I jumped back in the car to decide where next. I was thinking of getting some more night photog in before the moon became too full or maybe heading back to the river bottom to get some cool time lapses. I stick the keys in the ignition and keep debating. I had every intention of clearing out. In the middle of my internal tete-a-tete I just kind of let my head fall back and closed my eyes-- but just for a sec I swear!
The next thing I know the car is engulfed by this bright burning white light. The clock radio said quarter 'til one in the AM. What? It was like waking up in the middle of the scene from Spielberg's Close Encounters.... I had lost four hours of my life and had no memory of it and this burning white light is completing engulfing the car. Gotta be an alien abduction right? Nope, just 5-0 shaking me down. Three cruisers had surrounded my dirty little focus and the officers were pounding on the windows to wake me up. I could barely respond, I was still practically dreaming not quite sure if I was awake or not. After a couple quick questions two of the cruisers took off. The remaining officer ran my info and of course it came back clean (except I had no known address on file-- try explaining how you live out of a P.O. Box!).
After a while the copper and I chattered away for almost an hour. I told him about the documentary project. He was speechless. He could not understand the logic of living out of your car if you have a decent job. In fact it took a little convincing before he actually believed that one. He kept saying "but dude you don't look homeless!" Keep in mind I am still dressed for work and have a pair Von Zippers on my head, my still camera & audio gear & video camera & cell phone are out on the passenger seat. Easy to see the confusion here I imagine. Towards the end of the conversation my friend in blue started giving me tips and pointers for the doc! He was like, "oh you have to go here or go talk to this dude and such and such" It was pretty cool ending, though I would have liked it better had it been aliens. Now there is a story!
Car cuisine at its best-- a little bit of this, little bit of that, just a pinch of je ne sais quoi, stir it all together et voila! we have lobster thermador! Trust me, it ain't your moma's cooking...Day 92
Saturday May 31st
Sparky & the Mother Hips!
Saturday May 31st
Sparky & the Mother Hips!
Mr. M'GooGoo first thing in the morning, and when I say "first thing" I mean 6 bloody AM!
Hair cut time in the shaded parking lot of an abandoned warehouse.
After the Mother Hips concert, Santa Barbara Mission's Rose Garden, thats me sleeping next to the 1973 national rose champion. Day 91
Friday May 30th
(aka Friday Night Lights with Mr. M'GooGoo)
Friday May 30th
(aka Friday Night Lights with Mr. M'GooGoo)
This is what happens when you live with a household of 20 year old psycho virgins, ummm I mean Mormons. From bad to worse, ummm I mean left to right: George enjoying a beer and then a bottle of whiskey, George's blood starts to boil after a sip of the Devil's juice, George as the Devil's juice takes grip, lastly George as he realizes that Joseph Smith probably doesn't love him anymore after drinking a whole bottle of the Devil's juice. (We can only hope Brigham Young and the rest are not bloggers reading this otherwise there is no hope.)
1 comment:
damn paparazzi is in the river bottom...their everywhere!
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